Ace On A Sleeve
by Incohatus
Summary: Mafia/Casino AU. In the Borscht Bowl Club, a very known underground connection exists. This is called "The Ace Table", where Identities are based on the card of aces. But a mystery remains hidden in the past, and Miles must draw it out of the person who killed his Father way back with the help of his old friends. Slight Mitsumei. Rated T because of references of fraternity.
1. A Meetup Under The Deck

A/N: I just got this idea on a piece of artwork I've been doing, so that explains why its so weird. Very out of plot, and very OOC.

Also, this hints some references from the game, such as the DL-6 incident, the Phantom in the DD, and the Interpol. I tried to twist it though, so here it is! I know crappy, but I'm trying to be a better writer (I'm just really getting started).

* * *

Ring Ring Ring

click*

"... yes?"

"Where you at now, man? The Table's getting started already!"

"Urgh. I am busy. I don't have time for this..."

"You said you would come! Don't tell me... don't tell that you're backfiring or something again."

"... fine. I'll make my way there. I just have to finish my files first."

* * *

It was nighttime. A night with this place. We all concluded that we should see who was the next dealer of our group.

It wasn't that scary or anything either. In the underground table of the Borscht Bowl Club, which was reserved only for us, keeping us hidden in the shadows. I thought I sealed this world out of my recollections, but they helped me carry out my tedious tasks, and so, I was drawn back. This place knows it all.

I lost my Father under someone who led the table years ago, and still, I haven't answered. I felt guilt and had to swear that I have to close this connection away. Away with the memories that brought only nightfuels.

Vengeance seem to get the better of me. Seeking answers, but I felt it was all useless since I made no clear conclusions yet.

And to resolve this maddening rage inside me, I really need answers. And so, I landed back into this world. The world where my old friends had existed, welcoming a helping hand without any exchange.

I reached the Borscht Bowl Club. It was quite healthy since my Father brought me in here to introduce how they should carry out. Into the shadows, where no one can see, and be precise at all times. It was still the creed of the connection.

The Ace Table. Sounds like a line used for gambling, but surprisingly, it wasn't. It was a makeover to hide the true identities of the members. Namely, we who bring justice.

I headed to the door. And in one peek hole of the door, I presented my identification. It was my Father's card. An ace of club. It was pretty much old by now, but I kept it preserved, just as I would do with his memories he left behind. It was still healthy, never fading a single detail. After presenting the card, the door opened.

Inside was really quiet. The members of the Ace Table are discussing something.

"I thought you never came." A voice beside me said. I turned around and saw a person so familiar to me. I couldn't help but nod at her remark.

"Nothing of the sort, Franziska. I was just late."

Franziska von Karma. The wielder of the ace of diamond. I hardly knew her when we were young back in the days, but ever since I came back to the Ace Table, I started to know what it felt like malevolence started raining down without a cuss. She was the proof of that.

"This game of yours was fairly tricking us into something. Its even reaching through history books like nothing happened." She muttered in hatred.

I almost forgot it almost involves our past. I felt responsible for the pain they were going to experience, but I had to let the answer be known. To resolve this deepest mystery the Table and I had embedded into our memories. I could see the members clattering away to work on the upper class once more.

"I can take all the fussing later, but now, I have to answer this." I frowned a bit, before looking back at her. "... are you up to it?"

She smirked with disappointment. "You should expect more than betrayal," She pointed her index finger at me firmly. "Miles Edgeworth."

I didn't expected that. "Same old Franziska. I'm glad you still have to remember that by."

"What? To carry your sore carrion again?" She scowled with a bow. "Why the pleasures all mine. I respected your old man after all..."

She doesn't need to say it all of how much she knew the second piece of that incident. I knew her too well. This Table was having a hard time cracking roots in its own.

I was grateful she resorted to reformation. To revert the mishandled things her Father once did, and make her own path.

Suddenly, a man noticed me and walked towards us. From the iconic hairstyle, I smiled formally.

"Hey there, buddy." He greeted. "Welcome back to our dinner table!"

Phoenix Wright. The one who currently owns the ace of spade. He was also my childhood friend back in the days, helping him out on one time when our classmates accused him of stealing my lunch money. Ever since then, he introduced me to his misadventures with his friend, Larry. He seemed to mature a bit now, not like when we were in college where he was still childish at nature.

"Heh, minus the sack of potatoes you've rounded up recently." Franziska smirked again.

"Don't sweat it, it was nothing really." Phoenix shrugged. "Anyway, we should go to business." He cleared himself away to make way for the table.

I walked towards my seat, which was beside Franziska and opposite of Phoenix.

"Can't believe it though..." Phoenix scratched his neck. "... we're going to dig up our past again. Are you sure you can handle it, Miles?"

I grimly looked at my Father's ace. After taking a breath, I looked straightly at him and Franziska. "This mystery wasn't solved yet, and they left it all behind the passing of time. Before I took this card, I swore to myself that I won't return to my Father's grave without a taste of justice."

"Seems you really braced for something." Franziska nodded. "I can't blame that."

"Me either." An another voice called. We turned to the door to see the figure carrying files.

Franziska quickly stood up and helped her with the folders. "You made it just in time, Mia."

Mia Fey. The one who claimed the ace of heart. I met her on our trip down to the court, asking me in curiosity. We also fought in this very same casino, our first match was the poker with her being the dealer.

"Well, well, well..." She smiled. "... looks like you needed help?"

"He is." Phoenix answered. "And it is through peering into the history books."

"This is messed up." Franziska mentioned at the files she had come across, getting our attention.

"What messed up?" Mia asked.

Franziska presented before us two pictures of two familiar figures, throwing it smoothly like a dealer serving the table as the ante goes up. They seem to be rather... alike.

"Now that is suspicious." Phoenix put his finger on his chin.

"Good catch, Franziska." Mia remarked, and upon turning the photo on the other side, she noticed a splatter of blood.

"Its a... king card." I muttered.

"Do you remember anything about this card, Miles?" Mia asked me.

I started to dig through my mind. Anything just to resemble that kind of card... it was very impossible. I can't remember that kind of card! It has no pattern of the club, the diamond, the heart, or even the spade! This is a trickery that left us in no clue. My friends depended on my memories on this card, but it was very hazy that I can't get through.

"This reminds me..." Franziska started to chuckle to herself. We all turn to her again.

"What's funny, Franzy?" Phoenix asked full of confusion.

"... that one time you got bested with a fool's card." She said, taking a slip of scrap paper, drawing a jester on it. "Just like this little fool with balls of string at the carnival."

Wait. That card she just drew...

A joker? But how did it ended up in the king card?

"Wait." Mia interjected. After a moment of silence, she smiled and ruffled Franziska's blue hair. "Franziska, that's it!"

"What? The carnival fool?" She asked.

"Much closer to that." Mia agreed. "Remember the jokers that existed in the murders back in the days? That means someone is involved in those by using a fake identity."

A joker card. It was used for identity, and they are primarily unknown people who work under the leader of the Table. This no longer hold any place in the Ace Table as it was reported to murder my Father.

"Its useless." I spoke. Phoenix was startled by my statement as he got pretty shaken up.

"What?! No, don't think like that, Miles." He frowned at me. "We--"

"But as we know nothing who is this person who used this fake identity," I cut him off, clenching my fingers together. "We may as well be good as blind looking straightly in a dark alleyway."

"Don't you sizzle nonsense now, Miles." Franziska countered him as well. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

I felt completely lost. With my old friends around me, not knowing what to do as well. I should've looked at that one minor detail before hooking up. This is not going anywhere.

No. I have to retrieve justice. I swear into that myself!

There was a thud against the table.

"Do tell whose side are you on." It was Franziska again, her gloved hand, formed into a fist, had landed against the hard wooden table.

Her, Mia and Phoenix watched intently at me. Waiting at my decision.

That had been upstart, but I do remember something like that.

"... what if we put the chips in?" I answered.

This was it, seems like a gambling round. But I am no longer being led on by a string. I remember it clearly now.

"What are you up to, Miles?" Phoenix asked me out of his curiosity.

"He served under the Table once, so that means he is not a mere commoner. He is a high-roller like us." My mind started to piece up the scheme. "We need his attention into the upper class. Take him out there."

Franziska removed her hand and sweeped up the files and photographs messed around the Table we've been discussing earlier.

Mia nodded. "Ante up. We got a house pot to crack." She said to Phoenix, who just nodded in return and went to the upper common floor to prepare a table there. She turned again to me, placing a daring smile. "Get that card of yours into place, Miles. That sucker is going to appear in the common's flat. Everyone will be there, including him." And she left, probably to assist Phoenix and hide the files.

If its a mistake, then I might as well drag it to hell with me. Just who is him... doing that cruel thing to my Father.

"Care to be his guest?" Franziska asked me, holding her phone. I almost forgot she had been spying on that man for countless days already.

"I have no choice. I raised many bucks of chips for this after all." I replied.

Franziska let out a "tsk" and she fiercely frowned at me. "Then earlier, you seem to give up all of our efforts just to know this guy. Just what the hell is in your mind, you foolish klutz?"

Well, this is what I expect from her. "On how I will pull out his mask and see his face. I'm sorry about earlier, I just don't know what to do."

Silence. It was a moment of understanding. Being with a woman I met in the earliest days in this familiar table. I felt that little girl full of innocence was now dead. I don't even know how to start once again.

"... same old Miles Edgeworth." She muttered bitterly. "That same man who betrayed me before."

I tried to tell her that I will never repeat that same mistake again, walking towards her.

"Franziska..."

But as I was going to, she turned to me sharply, and pushed me in the chest with force, causing me to get toppled down on the floor. My two arms supported my upper body, leaving my feet scrambled.

"No, you shut up." She snapped. I could see her fists shaking in hatred, ready to hit me squarely, and without her whip. Her blue eyes pointed at me like daggers. "You left me to be... like this. You left me behind in this very same room and table, never listened to me what was in surprise because you believed him."

What is she saying? "Franziska, what are you--"

"Yes, I know what they were planning that day!" She roared. "I tried to reason out, to tell you that you're making a terrible mistake..." She eased down a bit. "... but I didn't. I didn't made it in time. Your trust had been stolen by that man. It was all in vain."

I tried to clear the concussion she just made in my head. I stood up, dusting my magenta suit for a bit. And took a few more steps towards her.

"It wasn't your fault..." I finally caught her off guard, placing my one hand to her cheek, but the second I landed it on her, I felt a stream of cold tears trickling down on her cheeks.

Wardens are deprived from emotions, and as such, they could keep that trait for a sign that they were assigned not to feel sympathy towards the criminals they come across. It also requires their whole dedication and hatred. She sold those to forget everything that we've been through, seeing me that I am nothing but a betrayer. A complete stranger to her.

But I guess the fate of this two aces we had been holding onto had brought us back together.

"I will make sure I will never leave you again, Franziska." I wiped away her trail of tear. "You've done everything while I was wandering around, and I am up to get lost time once I settled the answers into light."

She gritted her teeth before raising her gloved hand. She hesitantly but suddenly removed it for me to see the different deep scars engraved on her beautiful palm. The tradition of the Wardens. It seemed fairly old, considering that it healed completely, but its appearance will forever remind anyone who see this that she suffered enough. So that everything she touched will cause pain.

"This..." she breathed. "... this scar is your undoing. Let this be your memoir of your betrayal. This is what you've came across, and might as well finish it."

Even if she sold everything to make a pit of malvolence for me, she made it to see to it that she wasn't going to catch me for the second time when I screw this up.

"Now go." She started to walk away, but...

"Wait."

She turned to me, confused.

I hesitated for a bit before speaking again. "Do you... trust me on this, Franziska?"

She looked away again. "I doubt it. But at least, I believe that you're going to get out in one piece."

And then she left.


	2. The Setup

Meanwhile, 15 years ago...

"... tag the can! Tag the can!"

"Hey, wait up!"

I sat on the bench watching them go in circles as they eyed the aluminum can, probably crushed by pebbles. The can clinked in response, losing balance but it always catches a grip on its own.

I wondered why it was even played in that way. Shouldn't it be more challenging if they instead shoot the pebbles in the can's mouth?

Suddenly, Phoenix came to me, handing a handful of pebbles with a smirk of enthusiasm.

"Come on, Miles! We're losing firepower." He pointed out the can grimly, getting lost to the opposition.

I plainly directed my gaze on the can once again. My face went flat.

"I don't want to play games that I don't know." I replied in exasperation.

"You know this game!" Phoenix retorted in disbelief. "Seriously, don't be such a spectator and instead help us win the game."

I raised my eyebrow at him. "Does it help?"

"Yes." Phoenix nodded firmly, with a frown matching his expression.

Guess I have no choice then.

I stood up slowly from the bench, took a pebble and threw it on the can with all of my energy. The pebble shoot through the air, inching the distance.

However, it didn't even touch the can, or even the slightest close range. I looked down.

Phoenix went to me again and placed his hand firmly on my shoulder. "Come on, Miles. Don't give up now."

I sneered at him. "But you just saw how I couldn't play this game. There's no reason for me to be able to do that again!"

I thought it would be over, that he will never bother me again to play.

Until he gave me his last pebble.

"Wheter you like it or not, you will use this to hit the can." Phoenix was clearly pissed, I can tell. Half of it is genuine seriousness.

Again, I sighed before throwing the pebble. The small rock glided through the air at high speeds. After that...

Clank!

... the can revolved a bit upon the impact, and after its spin, it finally trudged into its death-- toppling down on its side, rolling a few distance away.

I could hear Phoenix shouting: "Yeah! That's what I call a game!"

I felt my hand ease. Although I never expected the can to get hit, I felt that I did enough. Seeing the can down on its own due to my throw, I sat down at the bench again, this time, without the dismay.

"You should play more with us, Miles. That would be great!"

* * *

Present Day

That memory. The can tumbling down could be audible even until now. It was almost the same as the glasses clinking into a toast.

"... are you sure for this, Miles? You seem pretty shook up."

It was Phoenix's voice once again. Cutting my train of thoughts.

"Honestly, I don't know what upholds on our match, but he will certainly fall on our trap. It's been years already, and he will get the right judgment before he goes to hell in afterlife."

"And remember to use your cards carefully. You'll need it." Phoenix nodded before leaving.

The setting is now in front of me. The spectators itself murmuring in curiosity and amazement. A table elegantly sitting in the center, and the light glazing it perfectly along with the sparkled eyes of both High Rollers and Commoners.

But one question still remains.

This man... just who the hell is he already?


End file.
